Red Dead Retribution
by Rainfox88
Summary: Post RDR. With his son missing, his family dead, John Marston, barely alive himself, becomes the man he once was, a ruthless killer bent on making Ross pay and plans on launching an all out war on the Bureau. He seeks shelter at the MacFarlane Ranch where emotions start to play. Bonnie realizes she must save John not just from the Bureau but from himself. Eventual JohnxBonnie.
1. Prologue

**Red Dead Retribution**

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**Disclaimer: I do not own Red Dead Redemption or Rockstar Games. This is strictly for fun, but you all know that already lol. Enjoy! :)**

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**Prologue**

The pain was excruciating. He had no idea that suffering could come from death. He had expected an eternal rest of peace, knowing he had saved his family and taken the ultimate sacrifice to accomplish it. Maybe Hell had claimed him for his sins, but he was not seeing abyssal flames in a tortuous underworld like in folklore, but only a blackness that was both haunting and alluring.

Maybe he wasn't dead yet. Maybe he was at the threshold between life and death. He tried to move, part of him fighting oncoming death, and the other part wanting to accept it and drift away. The pain pulsed with hotness and he suddenly could feel his body again. Though he wanted to yell out in agony, he had no voice. There was still this black void all around him. He tried to tell the good Lord to go ahead and finish him already.

He could smell something burning. Smoke filled his nostrils, and he started coughing. The act brought forth more pain from bloodied lungs. His eyes finally came open, the world spinning and his eyes trying to focus. There was a thick layer of smoke through his blurry vision and he could see the bright lapping of flames engulfing the house he was in. His mind was reeling, but soon it came to him. This was his house. His house was burning! He cast aside his confusion, having his last thoughts been back to standing outside the barn and letting Ross and his men gun him down, and started trying to move.

John Marston reeled up into a sitting position, stabbing pain hitting him hard. His first thoughts were his family. Uncle was dead, but Abigail and Jack had gotten away on horseback, he made sure of it. As he forced himself to move, knowing he had only minutes to escape the blazing fire eating away his home, he soon realized he wasn't alone in the living room.

His heart sunk, and instantly everything was forgotten. The engulfing flames around him, the intense pain that wracked his weak body, all disremembered because of the sight before him.

Abigail's body, shot and bloodied, lay next to him, cold and lifeless. Uncle was not too far from her, a bloody mess like he was before John let himself be executed. As he crawled over to his wife, he scanned frantically for Jack, but his son was nowhere to be found in the burning room with them.

He knew Abigail was dead, but he pulled her up into his lap and begged her to wake up anyway. She had been shot several times in the chest. John just couldn't understand why this had to happen. He did everything they wanted, and they still killed his family

There was a crackling groan, and seconds later a wooden beam crashed to the floor next to him and Abigail. He suddenly realized how hard it was to breath. His few words to Abigail had been wracked with coughs.

He looked around some more, to make sure there was no sign of Jack. He prayed his son made it out alive. As much as John wanted to lay there and let the burning house claim him since Ross's bullets did not, he knew he had to escape and find Jack. He also had to make Ross pay.

The gunslinger was renewed with a reason to live, even just for a short amount longer. He bent over to kiss Abigail on the forehead one last time, and gently laid her down on the floor. Forcing himself to stand, John groaned in pain as he did so. His legs did not want to obey him, they were too weak. Moving had caused his wounds to reopen, and for a moment John wondered how long he had been out.

He started coughing violently, to the point blood was coming up. The smoke was getting thicker by the second. John limped for the nearest window, noticing how the fire was violently taking over the living room of the house. He busted the window with his elbow, trying to bear the pain that stabbed him with each little move. Cool air from the night outside immediately started to fill his nose. Some of the smoke found the exit, and started pouring out.

John vaulted himself over the window seal, not caring about the broken glass. His stiff body ended up toppling over, and he crashed onto the deck outside. He cursed his pain out loud, part of him wanting to give and up and die. He knew he had to keep going. If Jack was still alive, he needed to find him. And John would be damned if he would die before Edger Ross got what was coming to him.

As he was forcing himself to get up once more, his eyes came across some kegs of TNT in the yard. They were far enough away from the house, but John knew better than to not worry. Ross must have planted some inside. He wanted to make sure the Marston family was wiped from reality for good.

John moved as fast as his body would let him. Once in the yard, he started making his way for the barn, though he paused as soon as he saw the giant, roaring mass of flames that had overwhelmed his home. It was like watching his life, his soul burn away with that house. Anger boiled from deep within him, and a familiar darkness fell over him.

_I'm going to KILL Ross for what he's done!_

In that moment, the house exploded. The boom was sharp and deafening. Fire hissed and rose even higher into the night sky. John didn't have time to shield himself as rubble and hot air hit him hard. Something struck his left eye, burning like a branding iron right out of the hot coals. It immediately took out his sight in that eye, and the force from the impact and the agonizing pain that came with it caused John to fall onto his back.

His cries of agony were towards the starry sky. He clawed at his eye, his multiple gunshot wounds instantly forgotten. Whatever got him in his eye was staying. The pain was too unbearable, and John's senses were already troubled.

He crawled to his feet and headed for the barn. He was disoriented, mind overwhelmed with hatred and pain and heartbreak. He almost decided to drop to his knees and put his revolver in his mouth. Almost.

"Jack!"

There was no reply to his cry.

"JACK!"

Still no answer, but he saw something running for him from the other side of the barn. He scrambled for his revolver, but soon realized it was his horse. The black American Standardbred nickered as it skidded to a halt next to him. This was the horse he let Jack and Abigail get away on. They must have got caught. Or Abigail dropped Jack off somewhere to get Ross's men off their trail and got captured herself.

John didn't have time to dwell. He had to find Jack. The horse sniffed him, obviously stressed, but looked to be in good health. John grabbed the saddle horn and heaved himself up into the saddle. He was then hit with an overbearing sense of exhaustion. He almost lost consciousness right then and there, but forced himself to move and keep going. He kicked the horse to get moving, and headed out of Beecher's Hope.

He tried to call for Jack, but his head was ringing. His only eye was failing as he was slipping in and out of consciousness. He fought it hard, determined to find his son alive after all that has happened. Soon, John grew weak, and he couldn't hold on anymore. His senses failed, and the world was spinning. It was a wonder he didn't fall off the horse. He lost consciousness on his horse's back, everything turning black once more.

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**A/N: I have been wanting to write this for a long time, but never got down to doing it. Since I decided to play the game again, my inspiration has returned to me lol. At first I wasn't going to have Jack live, but I think it helps with keeping John alive. Anyway, thanks for reading and reviewing and hope you all enjoy! Take care! :)**


	2. Chapter 1: To Survive a Hail of Bullets

**Chapter 1: To Survive a Hail of Bullets**

The voices rang through his skull, all familiar to him in some sense. Some voices were fainter than others. Most of them were people from his past, allies he had met in his search to hunt down his old gang; even voices from his enemies plagued him.

"_Change is only good when it makes things better."_

"_Killing men is a strange kind of fame."_

"_The life we led, it doesn't go away. It's never over."_

"_You can't escape the past, Marston. Everyone eventually pays for what they've done."_

"_Our time is passed, John…"_

Maybe Dutch was right. Maybe his philosophy hadn't made him insane at all. Maybe he was the fool. And now he realized he should have really shot Edgar Ross a hundred times over than his adopted father and savior. He felt gullible ever having trusted Ross in the first place. He had failed his family. It was all his fault they were gone.

But Jack…Jack was still out there somewhere. He wasn't in the house fire. He couldn't be dead. He had to of gotten away. John had to find him. He had to find his son.

John struggled to move his body. He had to get up. He was wasting precious time to find Jack. He didn't care about the pain. Only Jack mattered. And once his son was found and safe, John knew he would be going after Ross for the most personal revenge.

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Bonnie MacFarlane rubbed at her eyes. She had lost count of the hours she had spent next to John Marston's side. Many times had her father and even Amos come in to try and relieve her. She refused to each time, knowing it was her duty to stay at her good friend's side. The doctor said his chances of survival were very slim, but she constantly prayed for him. And even if he was to slip away in the bed beside her, she couldn't leave him alone for it.

John was found four days ago, and he had remained in the same condition as he was now. Bonnie was horrified to see his condition. And when her father brought her the paper yesterday, she was appalled at what she read.

_Marston Family living peacefully at Beecher's Hope dies in raging house fire. Whole ranch lays in ruin…_

Now, she knew that couldn't be true. Something happened to John that put him in this condition. He had several gunshot wounds throughout his body. The doctor noted that all had missed vital organs, but his chances were still slim from infection and blood loss. His left eye was lost as well, and like the rest of his wounds, had been wrapped and treated for the time being. Only if John survived would she ever know what really happened to him.

Her father had warned her that if John awoke, that he may not be the same man she knew. Losing a family could cause him to be something they didn't want to see.

But Bonnie had faith in John. She stared at him lovingly, praying to God Almighty to keep her good friend alive. She slowly rested her hand on top of his, squeezing it gently

"Come on, John…"

The door to the bedroom creaked open. Bonnie looked over to see Amos enter quietly. He pulled his hat from his head, gripping it in his fingers across his chest. He dipped his head at her respectfully.

"Ma'am, your father sent me to trade you places. He says it's time for you to get some rest. It ain't good for you to stay like this."

Bonnie shook her head. "Well, you tell him no. I'm not leaving his side. I'll make myself a pallet up on the floor, I will. Now go on, Amos, and you tell him to stop tryin' to get me to leave him."

Amos weakly smiled, as if he had known this was going to be her answer the whole time. "Yes ma'am."

John's heavy breathing suddenly stopped. Bonnie quickly looked down to her friend. For a moment, she feared he had lost the battle for his life. Even Amos came into the room looking concerned. The strong ranch woman felt tears started to well up in her eyes, but then John was moving up into a sitting position coughing.

"John!" Bonnie cried. She then turned to Amos. "Go get Daddy and Dr. Brockton, now!"

Amos nodded and was running out of the room. Bonnie turned back to settle John. His coughing had stopped but it had been replaced by groans of pain. John had to have been confused, because he was trying to look over where he was and he reached for a gun that was no longer on his hip.

"John! John, it's me, Bonnie! Please, settle down or you are going to break open your wounds!"

She risked grabbing his shoulders in his confusion and pain to try and settle him, knowing in this state he could easily hurt or kill her. She was relieved when he recognized her and stopped fighting, though he was far from being settled.

"Miss MacFarlane?! What the hell? What happened?!"

His voice was even more hoarse than normal, but Bonnie remained calm to try and answer him. "I was hopin' you could tell me. Amos was lucky to have found you and your horse down yonder near Stillwater Creek on his way to visit his cousin at Manzanita Post! You had fallen off your horse, but you were near death. Amos hauled you back here. The doc patched you up but he didn't think you would make it."

John didn't say anything. He still looked as though he was recovering from his sudden awakening. He gripped his chest, obviously in pain as he looked all over the room.

"John, what happened?"

"That bastard…I'm gonna make him pay!"

Her heart leaped at those eerie words but he didn't have time to elaborate before her father, Drew MacFarlane, and Dr. Brockton were racing into the bedroom. The good doctor already had his bag out and was ready to treat John.

"Mr. Marston! By God! This is a miracle!" Drew called.

John reluctantly let the doctor look him over as he glanced between Bonnie and her father. "Where's my horse? And my weapons? I need to leave!"

"You're in no shape to leave!" Bonnie cried.

"Where in God's name do you have to go? You are lucky to be alive, my boy!" Drew added, shaking his head.

"It doesn't matter. He is in no condition to get up from this bed. Mr. Marston, I suggest you take up bed rest for at least another week before attempting any kind of movement. From there, you will need another couple of weeks to even recuperate from all your wounds. That's only if you don't catch any infections or illnesses on top of everything else. Doctor's orders," Dr. Brockton informed, staring the ex-outlaw right in the eye.

"I don't give a damn what you say old man! I have to leave; my son is still out there somewhere!"

"Jack's alive?" Bonnie gasped.

"You won't get far if you try anything, but be my guest. You won't do your boy any good if you end up dead. The fact that you are even alive right now is a miracle. I wouldn't ruin it with recklessness," Dr. Brockton stated.

"You son of a-!"

Bonnie and Drew grabbed John before he could grab the good doctor. Dr. Brockton pulled back quickly. He straightened his shirt cuffs and cleared his throat. He tipped his hat to the father and daughter MacFarlane.

"I'll be on my way. Let me know if you will need restraints for him."

"We will keep that in mind," Bonnie said, struggling to keep John from getting up from the bed to go after the doctor. She couldn't believe his strength, even in his condition.

The doctor left the MacFarlanes to tend to the angry, injured ex-outlaw by themselves. John slowly settled down after the doctor left, wincing in pain after they let him go.

"What the hell is going on, son?" Drew asked.

"Edgar Ross and his lackeys did this to me…and my family. They killed my family! After all that I did for them to clear my name and to keep my family safe! But Jack, I think he escaped! I need to find him!"

Bonnie couldn't believe his words. She was hurt and angered by them. All John had wanted was to clear his name from a past he left behind, and to do right by his family. Edgar Ross had blackmailed him into doing his dirty work for him, wiping out John's old gang, only to turn around and stab him in the back by destroying his dream.

"And I was dumb enough to trust his words…Miss MacFarlane, I should have taken more on your words…how you said you never met a man in a suit you could trust."

Bonnie weakly smiled. "John, we will do all in our power to help you find Jack and get your revenge. But you need to do me a favor, and heal up first. Understand? I will send some ranch hands out in the morning first thing to Beecher's Hope. They are great trackers. Maybe they can find Jack and bring him here while you rest up. If Ross thinks you are dead, then that is your best strategy for now."

John seemed to consider her words. He clenched his jaw, knowing that she spoke the truth but not having the patience or the care to listen to them. He slowly nodded at her, sighing and letting his shoulders slack.

"Yes ma'am."

"Good. I'll bring you some water."

"And afterward, you can go rest."

She glared at her father as she stood from her chair. "No! He needs lookin' after!"

"I'll handle that. Ya hardly left his side at all since we got him here. You need the rest. Besides, it ain't right for a lady like you to be staying in his room."

"But!"

"I'm not gonna argue! Now git!"

Bonnie couldn't believe her father. She knew he was only looking after her, and doing the right thing, but she felt compelled to be the one to take care of John. Stiffly, she nodded, and left the room with one last glance at John. His eyes had grown distant as he stared out the window into the darkness of the night. As Bonnie carefully took her steps downstairs to fetch some water, she knew it was going to be a long, stressful week in getting John to heal.

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**A/N: Voila! Chapter 1 is finally complete, though I have to admit, my talent for naming chapters has kinda sucked for all my stories lately lol. Anyway, I am excited for this story, even if nobody reads it. I know RDR is old, and no one plays it anymore, except for me because it is one of my most favorite games EVER. Lol. But the point is to have fun, and I have just been wanting to write this forever. So please enjoy, and thank you for reading and reviewing! :D**


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